


One

by imbeccacile



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, F/M, Guilt, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Stephen Strange Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbeccacile/pseuds/imbeccacile
Summary: Stephen went into the future to view four million six hundred and five outcomes of the conflict with Thanos. Now, after they’ve won, he is dealing with the trauma of what he’d seen and what came to pass.





	One

**Author's Note:**

> I just love strange so much so have some angst he’s rly not ok  
> kudos and comments are appreciated!!

Every time Stephen closed his eyes, he saw things he really wished he could forget.

 

He sat at one of the desks in the relic room of the New York sanctum, head in his hands as he blearily tried to read a book of spells he had yet to learn in an attempt to get his mind off of what he’d just been woken from. 

 

Not only did he remember the one situation in which they could win against Thanos and bring back the half of humanity that had disappeared - he remembered all 4 million. Every time he closed his eyes he could see a new one. He wished it would just stop, but there were too many. 

 

And even if they did, surely he would never, ever forget having to see Tony Stark sacrifice himself.

 

He’d known it for too long. It hadn’t been able to bother him because he disappeared - and he’d seen that too - but now that it was all over? He couldn’t get it out of his mind.

 

Swallowing, he leaned back against the chair, shaking his head. It was frustrating. The failed outcomes never came to pass, so why were they still haunting him?

 

The Spider-Kid sacrificing himself for Tony, but it not being enough. The Guardians being killed slowly, one by one, just because Thanos  _ could.  _ The time traveling not ever working. 

 

All of humanity being wiped out for good.

 

Luckily, Stephen was brought out of his thoughts by the cloak, nuzzling its collar against his cheek when a tear rolled down. He sniffed, annoyed at himself, and reached up to sort of pet the cloak as a way to thank it - he figured it probably liked that.

 

“Stephen?”

 

He jumped a little, glancing over his shoulder to see Christine standing in the doorway, disoriented, obviously having just woken up.

 

Her hair was down in waves against her shoulders, wearing a long t-shirt, and concern in her tired eyes. She was beautiful, just as usual. ”What are you doing awake? It’s four in the morning.” He turned away from her, returning his gaze back to the book.

 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

 

She sighed and walked over, sitting on the edge of his desk since there wasn’t another chair. “I woke up and the bed was cold,” she said bluntly, not once removing her gaze from him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

He swallowed, slowly raising his gaze to hers. “What’s wrong?” he repeated quietly, leaning his elbows on the desk. “What’s wrong is that Tony Stark is dead, and I’ve known that it would happen for five years. What’s wrong is that I saw four million possible outcomes in our fight against Thanos and despite the fact that the one where we did win happened, I still  _ see _ all of what could have been. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything.” His hands shook more and he dropped his chin to his chest.

 

Christine was silent, obviously figuring words would fail her, and placed a hand behind his head, bringing him close. He rested his forehead against her stomach, and she ran her fingers through his hair.

 

“He had a daughter,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “A wife. I don’t understand why it had to be him.”

 

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know either,” she said gently. “And we never will. As much as it pains you, Stephen, there’s nothing you can do except try to move on. And I’m going to be here for you, even if I understand none of it.”

 

With a shaky hand, he reached up and laced his fingers with hers, bringing her hand to his lips and against his cheek. When he opened his eyes, he saw yellow in the corner of his eye.

 

Sitting up rather quickly, he stared at where he saw the yellow, squinting for a long moment. “Stephen?” she asked, frowning as she watched him, concerned. 

 

“I saw her,” he murmured, looking back at Christine with wide eyes before astral projecting out of his body, looking around wildly. He saw yellow again and turned.

 

The Ancient One was floating by the window, hands clasped behind her. She looked exactly the same as he remembered her the night she died; staring out at the sky as she stretched short moments into longer ones. 

 

“The sun will be rising soon,” she said softly as he approached, open-mouthed and shaken.

 

Stephen stared at her for a long time. “Y-You, you’re supposed to be…” he stammered.

 

“Dead?” she finished, moving her head slightly to look at him, a soft smile on her face. “Well, yes, I am.”

 

“How are you here?” he asked, hating how broken his voice sounded.

 

She looked back out at the sky. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” she asked. “You’re hallucinating. You haven’t had proper sleep in two weeks.” He could have sworn he saw a smirk on her face.

 

He shook his head, floating a bit closer, not quite believing her. “No, I...I can’t be. I need you here now, more than ever. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Perhaps that’s why you can see me.” He blinked, and a few tears rolled down his face. She turned towards him, reaching out to wipe one of them away with that soft, knowing smile. “Stephen,” she whispered, “you have done, and are doing, everything I knew you would. The moment I began teaching you, I knew your future. You are meant to be the best of us.”

 

“But why? Why me?” he asked, desperation and frustration in his voice. “What’s so special? I was just an arrogant...douchebag with shaky hands who wanted nothing but his old life back. Now someone has died and I feel like that’s on me!”

 

She reached for his hand, and looked back out the window. He took it carefully. “Mr. Stark knew what needed to be done. You know there was no other way, and that isn’t your fault. And I can assure you that he wouldn’t blame you in any way - no one does. It had to happen for the good of humanity.”

 

He shut his eyes, shaking his head. “I can’t…” his voice caught in his throat, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt so vulnerable. “I can’t do this without you.”

 

“Yes, you can. And you will. You have Wong, and your lady friend.” She glanced over her shoulder, and so did he; Christine was reaching towards Stephen in slow motion as his body was slowly falling back against the chair. “She really is a keeper, you know. Someone who sticks by your side even through witnessing astral projection.” She smiled a little, then turned to Stephen. “I wish I could have met her properly.”

 

“Y-Yeah...so do I,” he murmured, nodding slightly as he dropped his gaze. He felt her squeeze his hand.

 

“You’ll be alright, Stephen,” she promised gently. “Give yourself time to properly heal. Let Christine and Wong help you. You were absolutely meant to be Sorcerer Supreme.”

 

Stephen swallowed, and closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, she was gone again. He stared at where she had been, then back out at the sky.

 

Did she really mean all of that?

 

He turned around and looked at Christine for a moment, still reaching towards him, to support him if he fell, but he wouldn’t let his body get to that.

 

Taking a shaky breath, he let it out slowly. Maybe things would be alright again. He wasn’t alone. With that, he floated back to his body.

 

He gasped and his eyes shot open, body jerking forward a bit.

 

“Would you stop doing that?!” Christine exclaimed, looking almost as shaken as the first time he’d done it. “Who did you see? What just happened?”

 

He got to his feet slowly, cupping her face in his hands, gently kissing her. She kissed back.

 

When he pulled away, he stayed close. “I just received a pep talk,” he said softly. “Thank you for being here with me.”

 

Even though she was obviously confused, she smiled, clearly noticing the tear tracks on his cheeks but thankfully saying nothing. “It would be better if we went to bed,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

 

Stephen nodded a little, grabbing her waist and lifting her off the desk and onto her feet, relishing in the giggle that escaped her as he did so. “You win this round, Dr. Palmer.”

 

“I win every round, Strange,” she replied cheekily, grabbing one of his hands, beginning to pull him gently back to the bedroom. The cloak followed.

 

When they lay down, it was nearly 5 am. Just as the Ancient One had said, the sun would be rising soon. But for now, Stephen was going to try and sleep.

 

Christine lay her head on his chest, arm around his torso, and he placed an arm around her protectively. The cloak draped itself over both of them in lieu of a blanket. 

 

“Christine?” His voice was quiet, because now he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

 

“Mm?” she mumbled.

 

He paused a moment, glancing down at her. “I love you. So much.”

 

He could feel her smile against his chest. “I love you, too.”

 

When he closed his eyes and fell asleep, he saw nothing.

  
  



End file.
